Daughter of Fire by Karen Frost

Author:Karen Frost
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ylva Publishing
Published: 2019-08-26T02:09:56+00:00

Chapter 9

“We must cherish and study history because the future of a people is predicted by their past.”

— Father Merek

“What is to prevent mages from becoming too powerful and overthrowing their rulers?”

— Avagas, third king of the Lamid dynasty

It’s easy to be brave when there’s nothing to be afraid of. A wolf, surrounded by her pack, is invincible, but separate her from her allies, make her lean and hungry, and in an instant she is scared and vulnerable. It’s in those moments when we are truly alone, with no hope of aid from any quarter, surrounded by fear and doubt, that true bravery is required. To be brave is not to be fearless, but to push on despite fear. Even then, sometimes moving forward is less an act of bravery than an act of habit. A deer will keep running even after it is mortally wounded.

I didn’t sleep much that night. Instead, I lay on my bed staring at the alien ceiling above me. The bed didn’t suit me. Traveling with Sir Idras, I’d become used to lying on a bedroll under the black night sky, gazing up at the untold numbers of glittering stars. My company then was the songs of hundreds of insects and the soft snore of the big knight, not the indifferent silence of stone walls. I didn’t know where I belonged anymore. Not in Thamir—because Thamir no longer existed—but could I ever belong anywhere else? How could I live in a world of stone buildings and classrooms when my life before now had been a small house and vast forests?

When at last the sun rose pink over the academic building and chased dark shadows off the green, I had already awoken and was sitting on the bed watching. I was scared—petrified even—but there was no alternative. This was my new home, at least for now, and I had to face what was to come. Gradually, the university came to life. Figures appeared and disappeared, crawling over the campus like industrious ants. Recognizing the need to change my clothing, I put on the blue tunic with the black jerkin and black trousers. The jerkin, which was leather, was tooled with various whorls and designs around the center, with a huge pair of wings that spread across the chest like an eagle in flight.

What might have been minutes or an hour thereafter, there came a knock at my door. “Yes?” I called.

“It’s Lyse.”

I walked to the door and opened it. Lyse stood on the other side in a maroon skirt and matching maroon bodice capped by short white sleeves. Her brown hair cascaded in waves down her back, and silver pendants that matched her necklace hung from her ear. Her brown eyes reflected the sunlight that spilled through the window behind me, making them sparkle.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully, smiling with dazzlingly white teeth.

When she saw my face, however, her smile immediately turned to a frown. “You look terrible.”

I rubbed my cheek with my left hand and shrugged.

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